While Frostweed did mourn the loss of her favorite season, she wouldn't find her sadness stayed for long. As the warm weather crept closer and closer, so did other things that had slept in winter's embrace. Flora, mud, swamp gunk, and of course - Mushrooms.Little mushrooms that peeked their heads out of logs, wet and raw from melted snow. Or mushrooms that grew in the warmth of decaying leaves and the warmth of the earth. The swamp was a treasure trove of mushrooms and other goodies to find. Frostweed liked them a lot. Heck, loved them. The shapes they would make were fantastic! No two were exactly alike and that was fun.
She set off to explore an area that had been a little warmer than where she lived, creeping along muddy territory that would break into wide clearings filled with sunlight. By the midday, her search had turned up nothing for mushrooms, but she had found some cool snails and a neat log with lots of mosses. She settled into a clearing, basking in the warm rays for a well deserved rest.
